care at all. Hit the gas and don't look back. Tonight we're headed off the map. This is the song we'll be singing when it all comes crashing down. Escape
no care at all. Hit the gas and don't look back. Tonight we're headed off the map. This is the song we'll be singing when it all comes crashing down. Escape
. belted to the waist, on stilts of trembling, the locket hinge digs in, like marks of teeth on skin, the memory half dust, just shapes of fading rust